See You In Boston (CU Hockey 5.50)

Mr. Rossi smiles. “Together?”

“Wait, what?” Lawrence asks. “Gianni’s gay?”

Mr. Rossi turns to him. “Not gay, but not straight. He hasn’t landed on a label yet.”

“And he and Tyson are—”

“They’ve been smitten all summer,” Mitch says. “Sharing loving looks across the hall like lovesick puppies.”

My neck heats.

“Stop embarrassing him,” Mr. Rossi says.

Lawrence sits back in his seat. “Huh. Well, good for Gianni. But that doesn’t change anything. I didn’t want to let either you or Whitney go, and it was my decision to chase another position for you. Would you like me to set up a meeting with Joseph Wright?”

“Yes, thank you, sir.” I’m practically bouncing in my seat but somehow keep my professional game face on. It’ll be sad to not be working here, but my whole plan was to use my degree, get a full-time job, and spend all my free time with Rossi. My … boyfriend? And see where life takes us.

Joseph Wright gives me the chance to do that.

I don’t need a meeting to know I’m already going to take the job.

I thank them all again, and as we walk out, Rossi is oh so conveniently walking past the room. His dad lets out a sigh and mutters something in Italian.

“Word of advice, Gianni. Keep a spare set of clothes in your backpack.” Mr. Rossi winks at me before walking off, and I laugh.

“Well, I guess cat’s out of the bag.” Rossi winds an arm around my waist, and I don’t fight him. I’m too happy. “What was all that about?”

“I got a really inappropriate set of cufflinks off your father.”

Rossi grins. “I thought you liked being inappropriate about mister Ros—” He cringes. “Nope, can’t even joke about it.”

“That’s okay, I can. And now he’s not my boss anymore, I have no reservations.”

He eyes me. “Did you ever?”

“I guess you’ll find out.”

Mr. Rossi pokes his head out his office door. “Tyson, I know it’s your last day, but we still have work to do. I wouldn’t want to have to take back a certain reference, would I?”

“Reference?” Rossi asks as his dad disappears again.

“Oh yeah, that. I was maybe sorta kinda offered a job in Boston?”

“What?”

“Okay, see you later.” I dart inside his dad’s office, and I can still hear him swearing from the hallway when I close the door behind me. It’s fun to tease him, but I wouldn’t be nearly so cruel if I didn’t think he’d walk into Mitch’s office and get the whole story from him anyway.

My suspicions are proved correct when I walk into the lunchroom and Rossi hugs me so hard my feet leave the ground.

By the time the day winds down and we leave Callaghan and Robson for the last time, it’s bittersweet. I loved it here, but after my phone call this afternoon with Mr. Wright, I’m feeling good about Monday.

I’ll be on trial for a month, but the pay is better than the junior role here, and since the company has a branch in New York, it means I have the opportunity to travel too. I’m bursting with excitement.

“Wanna go out?” I ask Rossi as we walk into the elevator, holding hands.

“Tomorrow? Tonight, I want to leave work with you and spend the night with my extremely talented and clever boyfriend.”

I smirk. “You know, we should talk about labels. I’m basically your sugar daddy now.”

“There’s no way that’s becoming a thing.”

“It’s okay, pumpkin, Daddy’s got you.”

Rossi shudders, then leans in, voice all growly at my ear. “If you want me to have any chance of getting it up once we’re home, stop making me think of my father.”

I hum. “But he’s so hot, Gian.”

Rossi groans, and I crack up laughing. This is going to be fun. Now we can be out and open together, nothing’s going to hold me back.

And the second we step foot inside my apartment, Rossi pulls the door closed behind us, locks it, and goes straight for my tie.

He throws it onto the back of my couch, and I drop my jacket beside it. Then he gets to work on my buttons while I do the same to him.

Once we’re both in nothing but our briefs, Rossi slings an arm around my waist and hauls me against him. “Hi.”

“Hey, sexy.” I run my hands up his chest, and he drops a kiss onto my nose that makes my knees turn to Jell-O. “What’s on your mind?”

“I’ve been sort of thinking.”

“Only sort of?”

“Shh.” He swipes his thumb over my lips. “I know you said you were vers, right? And that you don’t mind which way it happens …”

I nod hesitantly. I did say that. And sure, it’s still mostly true, but I know now I have a preference. A very clear preference.

He swallows and says in a rush, “I’m not sure I want to try it. Sorry. Maybe one day, and if you wanted it then definitely, but I tried to shove my finger up there the other night and it felt so wrong, and—”